Road to Bountiful

Donald Smurthwaite, The Road to Bountiful (Whitney finalist, General)

I enjoyed the premise to this book, in which a young man, Levi, accepts his aunt’s offer of $600 to drive his great uncle Loyal from North Dakota to Bountiful. The story is told in alternating point of view, from Levi’s youthful exuberance to his uncle’s slower, more reflective approach on life. Loyal’s perspective, in fact, was my favorite, as he mused on the pharmacy practice he’d retired from, the burial of his wife, his own imminent immurement in a retirement community and the long life facing Levi. 

 The plot itself is slow and gentle, as what was to have been a quick drive turns into a more leisurely road trip. Smurthwaite is a good writer and I liked the way both characters began to rub off on one another. Some of the descriptions of the landscapes were stunning.  But I felt that the character arcs (esp. Levi’s) were a little too steep—it didn’t feel true to the complexity of life for Levi’s mindset to have been so overwhelmingly changed over a few days. However, the story definitely has its charms and would appeal to readers looking for a clean, sweet, non-romantic novel.

Ruby's Secret

Whitney Finalist, General

I've read several other books in the Newport ladies book club, and the concept is always entertaining: the series alternates between the point of view of the different women in the book club. Each book overlaps the others in terms of time, and it's been fun to get peeks at what goes on behind the scenes of each woman's life. The book club scenes are similar in each book, though of course you get a new perspective based on what the point of view character notices.

This one features Ruby, the older woman who organized the book club in the first place. At 62, Ruby is a widow, but she's put that behind her and she's determined to enjoy life. In addition to arranging the book club, she also joins a senior center and is talked into taking a trip with the group to Greece.

There she meets the charming tour guide, Gabriel, whose sister Maria is a friend of Ruby's back in California. Initially, Ruby's enjoyment of the tour is dampened by her previous experience in Greece: her husband spent most of their shared vacation at meetings, and it was after that trip that she first found out that he was unfaithful to her. Ruby is still deeply conflicted by what she sees as a failed marriage (though she stayed with him to his death) and this creates trouble as Gabriel begins to show interest and seek her out. Ruby isn't sure she wants another romantic relationship--and she isn't sure she deserves one.

I liked that the perspective of this romance was that of an older woman--I don't think we see that often. And I liked how caring and concerned Ruby was for the women around her. I did get frustrated at times with Ruby, because I felt she was punishing herself too much, but that did seem in keeping for her character.

The Orchard

Whitney Finalist, Romance

I enjoyed  Jensen's previous Whitney-nominated romance, Of Grace and Chocolate, and had high hopes for this book, which was based on Jane Austen's Persuasion. (And as anyone who knows me will attest, I'm a sucker for Austen adaptations).

This book was sweet, rather than deeply stirring. In some ways, Jensen's previous book had more depth. Here, of course, she's somewhat limited by the Austen book she chose. And of all Austen's books, Persuasion is her most mature, and her most subtle. A difficult one to adapt. (Probably also my most favorite).

After the death of her mother, Alisen Embry finds solace in keeping the orchard her mother loved alive. Just after graduating from high school, Alisen meets Derick Whitney (Jensen's nod to "Frederick Wentworth"), a striking young man who's the nephew of the farmer who's been teaching Alisen to care for her orchard. They quickly grow close, and Derick introduces Alisen to his LDS faith. Alisen's father and aunt are concerned both by Alisen's rapid commitment to the relationship and the new church, and they urge her to break things off. Alisen goes along with them, largely because a crisis in her father's health leads her to believe she's needed at home.

Fast forward four years. At twenty-three, Alisen is older and more reserved. Her father's financial situation has changed, and she encourages him to rent their lovely lake-house and take a more modest condo in town. Alisen continues to work on the orchard, but when the lake-house rental is picked up by Derick's older sister and her family, Alisen finds herself both dreading and fearing the imminent advent of Derick. Can he forgive her for not holding constant?

The storyline, of course, is familiar to anyone who knows Persuasion. I was most interested in seeing how Jensen updated certain story lines (like the famous fall at Lyme Regis), and I thought for the most part her adaptations made sense. I loved the Montana setting (brought back fond memories of my childhood). The characters were interesting and nice, but I don't feel particularly drawn to any of them. Overall, a sweet, clean read but not a profound one. 

The Enchanter's Heir

I love Cinda Chima's books. I've loved her Seven Realms series, and I loved her Heir Chronicles, though I thought she'd concluded that series with the Dragon Heir. Imagine my surprise and delight, then, when I found a new one at the library! Only, silly me, I somehow thought this was a companion novel to the other books--that is, a storyline that would largely wrap up in this book. My biggest complaint now is that since this book came out only recently (in October), I now have to wait to see how the cliff-hanger ending resolved.

I'm still processing the book, though, which adds an intriguing new dimension to the world of the Heir Chronicles. In fact, the story starts out largely outside of the traditional world of the magic guilds, with a commune in Brazil (Thorn Hill) where magic wielders have chosen to leave the guilds behind. Only then disaster happens (and one of the big mysteries of the book is what, exactly, did happen--was it an accident? Deliberate sabotage?) and all the adults at the commune are wiped out, poisoned, and many of the children die as well. Those who survive are deeply scarred, their magical gifts changed and sometimes distorted beyond all reason. Jonah Kinlock survives, but with a gift that is also a curse: he can kill with a touch.

Fast forward ten years or so: Jonah is busy fighting shades, undead creatures who are on a continual quest to find fresh host bodies to sustain them (and with painful links to the Thorn Hill massacre). Meanwhile, Emma Greenwood is happy playing the blues in Memphis and living with her luthier grandfather--until she finds him dead under strange circumstances. With only a few clues left by her grandfather, Emma goes to live with her father in Cincinnati (not coincidentally near Anchorage, where the survivors of Thorn Hill have taken refuge, and Trinity, the center of the new guild leadership from the other Heir novels).

While Jonah seeks to untangle the mysteries of Thorn Hill (which are linked to the increasingly powerful and organized shades), Emma tries to figure out her own past, and her own odd connection to Thorn Hill.

I liked both of the main characters--and of course, that key to good romantic suspense, their inability to get past their own obstacles in the relationship (the fact that Jonah could kill Emma if they ever kissed is naturally part of their chemistry). But I loved the way music threads through the story and I'm really curious to see where Chima goes with the driving mystery of Thorn Hill. I could have done without the cliff-hanger ending (dang it!), and there was a surprising amount of death in the novel (though it was fun to see certain villains from previous stories finally get what they deserved).

On Revision

I know some authors dread revision (my sister complains that she tends to revise her work to death). I'm not one of them. As much as I enjoy the initial rush of words on paper (except, of course, for the saggy middle), I like even more the chance to sharpen those words into something meaningful.

Some of this comes from my other life as an academic--my first published paper took me nine revisions (most of them substantial) to get it right. And I've seen first-hand how much revision can benefit student papers.

But revising a novel is a totally different beast from revising an essay--with one exception. Both require an openness to "re-seeing" your piece.

I recently finished a draft of a novel I'm quite excited about--a ninteenth-century alternative history set in Hungary on the eve of the 1848 revolution. But the initial draft, fun as it was to write, had a number of problems with it. I knew I wanted my revision to be meaningful, but I also knew that I can't try to fix everything at once. (Maybe some writers can. I'm not one of them). So I came up with a plan, based loosely around revision suggestions given by writer Donald Murray (who also happens to be a noted scholar in my other field). I'll be talking about each step in more detail in later posts.

1. Revise for plot. This means looking at both the overall narrative structure of the piece and the individual scenes. In practical terms, this meant creating a reverse outline of my novel, and breaking each chapter down into scenes, a description of character goals for those scenes, along with a description of purpose and mood. (To be honest, I got bogged down about half-way through and just listed the events, but I still found the experience helpful, as it let me see quickly where plot holes existed.) When I finished, I went through and color-coded each scene to let me know whether it was part of the main plot or one of two sub plots.

2.  Revise for Character. Is each character acting consistently? Does each character have a unique voice? Do characters have oppositional goals in each scene?

3. Revise for mood. In his terrific book on screenwriting, Story, Robert McKee makes a compelling case that shifts in value (and mood) are part of the engine that drives the story forward. As I revise, this is one of the things I intend to watch for.

4. Revise for voice. After a compelling story, voice is probably one of the most important elements of a good story. But paying too much attention to voice early in the process can be counter-productive, particularly if one of those carefully crafted scenes later ends on the chopping block.

Right now I'm still revising for plot--since this entails rewriting a substantial number of scenes, including the final one, I imagine this step may take me a while. But having a plan also makes me feel like I know what I'm doing, and like my revision is do-able.

How about you? What revision goals do you set for yourself? What are your favorite parts of revision or drafting?

Book Review, YA: All the Truth That's In Me

Julie Berry's All the Truth That's In Me has made several award lists, including a Penguin Blue Ribbon selection, A YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Top Ten title, A 2014 Edgar Award nominee for YA, A Kirkus Reviews Best Teen Book for 2013, and more. And in this case, I think the book deserves the hype.

This is the second book I've read in the last two weeks with a second person point of view. Like Jennifer Quist's Love Letters from the Angel of Death, this novel is told entirely in second person, as short snippets directed to Lucas, Judith's childhood friend and the boy who has her heart. Two years ago, Judith and her best friend disappeared from her small town of Roswell Station (and although this initially made me think sci-fi, this Roswell has nothing to do with aliens). Judith's best friend's body was discovered days later, but Judith disappeared for months. When she finally returned, she had been viciously silenced: her tongue had been cut out.

Much of the story deals with the aftermath of Judith's traumatic and mysterious disappearance. Judith's mother largely ignores her, uncomfortable with the daily reminder of her daughter's violation. Judith herself won't speak (except in these lovely excerpts to Lucas), and her brother doesn't seem to notice her struggles. But when enemy forces assemble against the village, Judith thinks she knows a way to save her family and friends--but to do so means facing her own nightmares and weaknesses.

This book surprised me in a lot of good ways. The language itself was lovely: lyrical, almost poetic prose. But the story was surprisingly readable. I think I read it in about two days, pulled along by a quick-paced plot and a burning need to know what happened to Judith. Many of the other characters also proved to have unexpected depths, which I liked.

Welcome!

Starting a new blog is at once daunting and thrilling--I'm not entirely sure how the shape of this blog will evolve, but I do know that it will involve a lot of reading (and book reviews), some thoughts on writing. I'll try to keep the waxing rhetorical to a minimum (but since I study rhetoric for my day job, there are no promises . . . )

If you're interested in reading any of my older book review posts, please see my old blog, An Equivalent Centre of Self. (Note to self: do not give blogs fancy blog addresses or odd titles that you will struggle to remember . . . )